


Colder than Cambridge

by SweetSorcery



Category: Cambridge Spies
Genre: 1950s, Angst, British, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, London, M/M, Male Slash, Slash, Spies, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-09
Updated: 2009-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-02 13:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery





	Colder than Cambridge

All the way to Jermyn Street, Anthony had been fidgeting - with his cufflinks, the door of the cab, even Guy's lapels at one point. And once they arrived at 'Turnbull &amp; Asser', Anthony stood back and held the door open for Guy, who gave him an amused smirk.

The trouble was that Anthony was desperate to keep his hands busy, because no matter how impassive he could make his features, his hands would always give him away. He would wring his fingers or tap them on the nearest surface, or shakily light one cigarette after the other. He knew his friends were familiar with them all; Guy, being his oldest friend, would know a few more than the others, and the last thing he wanted was to make this any harder for him.

Looking at Guy across a shelf of cashmere sweaters, he wondered whether there was any point. Everything about Guy's mood on the drive here had told him that his friend knew full well that he was to be shipped off. Cut loose. A security risk. A liability - like Donald.

Guy had never been stupid. He might have always been intentionally blind to the faults of his paramours, his friends, and sometimes even his own, but he was certainly not stupid.

"Anthony, come over here and run your critical eye over this!"

Strolling closer to Guy, Anthony forced a smile onto his face. "You've never needed my fashion advice, Guy," he joked half-heartedly.

Guy grinned in his boyish way. To anyone who didn't know him as well as Anthony did, he was his usual eccentric, but pleasant, self. If he had dark rings under his eyes and looked older than he had only a week ago, people would simply assume he'd been on a drinking spree; it was hardly unusual, after all.

The pleasant tailor they both knew quite well stepped aside to let Anthony have a better look at Guy's chosen attire - a fine, very autumnal, chocolate-coloured jacket.

Anthony's heart clenched. "You should have a good coat. A warm coat."

Guy looked at him, a pained frown between his eyes even while his lips pretended to be smiling.

"I want to buy you a coat," Anthony said. And to the tailor, "The best you have."

"Of course, Mr. Blunt." Hurrying away, he left his two regular customers alone.

"Thank you, Anthony." When Anthony smiled tightly, Guy reached out a hand and ran it along Anthony's arm, tugging and stroking at his sleeve absently.

Anthony allowed it for a few moments, then grasped the wandering hand and entwined his fingers with Guy's. He squeezed it tightly, and Guy returned the pressure.

"Something tailored, gentlemen, or..."

Anthony quickly said, "The best you have in store. But we'd like to take it with us today."

Guy's lips twitched into a sad smile. He did not need to ask about the need for expediency. He simply tried on the black cashmere coat Mr Asser held up for him. It fit perfectly, of course, but it was much too  
warm a coat for London. Possibly even for Cambridge.

"Yes," he said. "Perfect going-away present."

He would not cry, Anthony told himself. He simply refused to let Guy see him cry. If either of them got started, they would never stop. Instead, he smiled as best he could and leaned close to Guy, whispering, "In a pinch, a good, warm coat is almost as good as a hug."

Guy looked up at him, thinking about all the things which had never been between Anthony and himself. For a terrible, tragic moment, he wished they _had_ been, and agreed softly, "Yes. Almost."

The End


End file.
